Why was the man on the raisin box so familiar? He was standing stiff with a grin and a pitchfork, leaning into his pretty, gothic wife, like she was sharing his joke. Archy had seen him before. His mind reeled back through his slurry of baby thoughts until he reached the one that fit. Could it be him? Was he the man in the hat who rode the bicycle with that pretty lady on the handle bars and did tricks for her until he crashed through the fence and stared down the bull while that song about raindrops played? Archy studied the face on the raisin box hard. It's him! Yes he said yes it was yes!
